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The club pulsed as the beat I was pouring into the crowd took over their bodies. Arms in the air, hips swaying, eyes wide and glazed as my music slammed into their ears, the rhythmic beats controlling their every move. The air was thick and sticky, clothes slick to people’s skins as they crammed into the full club to hear me.I watched them light up with color. Watched them get lost to the sound. Watched them shed whoever they’d been that day—an office worker, a student, a copper, a call-center worker—what the hell ever. Right now, in this club, most probably high off their faces, they were slaves to my tunes. Right here, in this moment, my music was their life. It was all that mattered as their heads flew back and they chased the high, the near nirvana I gave them from my place on the podium.I, however, felt nothing. Nothing but the numbness the booze beside me was gifting me.
Two arms slipped around my waist. Hot breath blew past my ear as full lips kissed my neck. Spinning my final beat, I grabbed the Jack Daniels beside me and took a shot straight from the bottle. I slammed the bottle down and moved back to my laptop to mix in the next tune. Hands with sharp fingernails ran through my hair, pulling on the black strands. I tapped on the keys, bringing the music down low, slowing the beat.My breaths lengthened as the crowd waited, lungs frozen as I brought them to a slow sway, readying for the crescendo. The epic surge of beats and drums, the insanity of the mix that I would deliver. I looked up from my laptop and scanned the crowd, smirking at seeing them on the precipice, waiting . . . waiting . . . just waiting . . . Continue reading Sneak Peek : A Wish For Us by Tillie Cole ~ Coming Soon→

Is that what your friends call you? I like that. Thanks for the answers.That’s an interesting question—why tonight of all nights? Well, I saw my ex tagged on Facebook with another woman, and that put me over the edge. But it’s more than that. Lately, I’ve developed a strong attraction to a good friend of mine, and that’s sort of screwing with me a bit. He’s actually temporarily living in my condo, but he’s someone I’ve known for years. I’ve always thought he was extremely handsome, but it’s complicated. He and I would not be a good match romantically. He’s not the monogamous type, or at least, he never used to be. We’re better off as friends. He was also the best friend of my ex years back, so there’s that. Having him around, though, has made me more sensitized to my sexual desires. Little things like the waft of his scent, the way he touches the small of my back when he passes by me in the kitchen…it’s like my body is on this constant state of alert. So, I was thinking if I could just—for lack of a better word—get laid, maybe I could get this feeling out of my system.—Amber

My jaw was open as I just sat there staring at the screen.

Holy shit.

I read it again.

And again.

And again.

I honestly didn’t think that Amber felt that way about me. She would always make jokes about me being good-looking, but her attraction to Rory proved that her taste wasn’t exactly conventional. Now, I really felt like shit for invading her privacy, because there was no way she would’ve been okay with confessing that to me. I never imagined any of this had to do with me. I’d assumed it was solely about Rory.

She wanted to use another man to f*ck me out of her system?

That revelation left me shocked and confused—not to mention hard as f*ck thinking about the fact that Amber wanted me.

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Synopsis:

From New York Times bestselling author Penelope Ward, comes a new, sexy standalone novel.

Growing up, the three of us were friends.He was the nerd.I was the playboy.She was the beauty.

Deep down, I only ever wanted her. I kept it inside because Rory and I made a pact that our friend, Amber, was off-limits.

He lied.

I went off to college, and he got the girl.Amber never knew how I felt. They were together for years—before he broke her heart.

Through it all and across the miles, she and I casually stayed in touch.When my job sent me to Boston for a three-month contract position, Amber let me stay in her spare room.

Still reeling from her breakup, she’d sworn off men.One night, I opened her computer to find the shock of my life. She’d hesitantly contacted a male escort company. Afraid to date and get her heart broken again, she was looking for sex with no strings.Every emotion imaginable ran through me: protectiveness, jealousy—curiosity.Amber had chosen Gentleman Number Nine and sent him a message.She opened up to him, confessing, among other things, her physical attraction to her friend—me. But she considered me off-limits—and she thought I was a manwhore. (Ironic, considering the circumstances.)

Eventually, she set up a date to meet Gentleman Nine at a hotel.When she showed up several nights later to meet him, she was stunned to see me standing there—with an offer I hoped she wouldn’t refuse.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Penelope Ward is a New York Times, USA Today, and #1 Wall Street Journal Bestselling author. She’s a seventeen-time New York Times bestseller. Her novels are published in over a dozen languages and can be found in bookstores around the world. Having grown up in Boston with five older brothers, she spent most of her twenties as a television news anchor, before switching to a more family-friendly career. She is the proud mother of a beautiful 13-year-old girl with autism and a 12-year-old boy. Penelope and her family reside in Rhode Island.

Up in Smoke, an all-new gritty standalone romance by T.M. Frazier is coming February 19th, 2018!

“All these bruises,” Smoke muses. “And not one of them caused by me.” He trails a hand up my arms and down my flat stomach. “Pity, but I still have time to leave my mark on you yet.”

My entire body stiffens. I’m as rigid as a corpse.

Smoke chuckles and I’m glad I’m facing away because his laugh is pure torture, causing his erection to vibrate against my folds which are aching for more contact.

“You will be punished, hellion. You can be sure of that.”

I look over my shoulder and meet his dark eyes which darken even further as his pupils dilate. His lingering gaze rakes me over from my feet to my breasts and back down to the space between my thighs. He licks his full bottom lip.

My stomach flips. My will to fight him off doesn’t waiver, but my body isn’t getting the message. My core clenches again. I turn back around to face the tile, digging my teeth into my lower lip until I taste my own blood.

His chest presses against my back, and his hardness pulses between my legs, rubbing against my inner thighs. He squirts some shampoo in his hand, working it into my hair. He tilts my head back and rinses my hair then slides his slick and soapy hand down my body.

I’m breathing rapidly now. Short quick breaths I can’t control. There’s a deep rumble in his throat. His hand travels lower and lower on my stomach until it’s between my legs. He’s working his thumb over my swollen nub, sending sparks of need, pangs of pleasure, and a wave of self-hatred, surging within my battered body and bruised soul.

“More questions…” his voice a hearty amused rasp. His fingers circle my clit while he continues to rock his hard cock between my legs. The pressure building is so strong it borders on painful.

Tears leak from my eyes. I’m so fucking mad at myself for being turned on. For Smoke being right. I’m so wet. He feels it. There’s no way he can’t feel it.

He leans in close. I’m stone still except for the tremors gripping my body. He licks the tear off my cheek and groans. He dips the tip of his finger inside of me and I tighten around the intrusion. It’s a foreign sensation. Strange. It feels both wrong and right. Pleasurable and painful. “Your tight little pussy is weeping too. I wonder if its tears taste the same.”

I look over my shoulder as he withdraws his finger and sucks it into his mouth. He groans. “Fear or desire. They both taste real fuckin’ good to me.”

He places his hand back between my legs. When I try to squeeze my thighs together to keep him out he parts them with his knee on a grunt and begins circling my clit again. This time harder. Faster.

I’m staying as still as I can, but when I feel something begin to happen inside my body. The sparks he ignited within me are all crashing together. I can’t hold back. My face scrunches as I try to fight the orgasm fighting its way out, but it’s no use. I can’t fight it. It’s too fucking strong. I’m so fucking close.

I arch my back without thinking, pressing my ass against him, begging for more. For what I need to push me over the edge.

Smoke hisses. “Oh, what I could do to this beautiful little pussy.”

The pleasure builds and builds as he strokes me harder. Faster. I’m about to come all over his fingers when the feeling is lost.

I spin around.

Smoke is gone.

I can’t see through the steam so I shut off the spray and wipe the water from my eyes only to see Smoke toweling off in front of the sink on the other side of the bathroom.

The only proof I have of what just happened between us was real is his cock. Erect. Thick. Huge. The purplish swollen head bobs against his abs, jutting out over the top of the towel he wraps around his waist.

“What…what just happened?” I stammer, leaning back against the wall for support.

Smoke steps forward, and when I go to jerk back, he reaches out and pinches my nipple painfully hard. I yelp and leap back, slipping on the tile, falling on my ass, taking the shower curtain down with me.

Smoke rips the curtain off my head and glares down at me with a triumphant grin on his evil beautiful face. “What just happened was called punishment and you got off easy. Next time I’ll split that tight pussy in two with my fucking cock.”

He goes to leave but stops. “You want pain?” he asks. “I’ll give it to you. You want pleasure? Now that’s something you’re gonna have to earn.”

He leaves, slamming the door behind him.

I release a shaky exhale.

I’d hoped the rest of my time with Smoke would be tolerable, but there’s no fucking way that’s going to happen. Not now. Not with my skin crawling with need. I’m losing my mind. About where I am. About what this is all about. About this beautiful horrible evil man.

T.M. Frazier is a USA TODAY bestselling author. She resides in sunny Southwest Florida with her husband and her young daughter.When she’s not writing she loves talking to her readers, country music, reading and traveling. Her debut novel, The Dark Light of Day was published in September of 2013 and when she started writing it she intended for it to be a light beachy romance.Well…it has a beach in it!

New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Katee Robert delivers the final installment in her sizzling O’Malleys family series, hailed as “The Godfather meets Romeo & Juliet.” In THE BASTARD’S BARGAIN Dmitri Romanov must use his legendary focus and control to stay one step ahead of everyone else in the ever-shifting power plays of New York City.

What readers are saying:“The Bastard’s Bargain presents a seductive escape and a fulfilling fantasy for that bad boy craving a girl can never outgrow.”—Isha at Book Likes“Keira and Dmitri are everything. What develops between them is raw and carnal and wanton. The way they need each other and the way they connect is beyond sexy. It’s something deep and dark and heartbreakingly beautiful.”—Eva, Goodreads Reviewer

Hunter chuckled. It felt like he could see through all of my bullshit. Reaching over to the nightstand, he grabbed his phone and held it out to me before getting up. “Toothpaste in the bathroom still?”

“The little one the hotel sets out.”

“I’ll brush. You type.”

While he was in the bathroom, I mulled over not typing anything into his phone. There was no way I was keeping in touch with a man living three-thousand miles away. A guy like him was the last thing I needed. But then I thought better of just telling him I’d put my number in. He seemed to have figured me out pretty quick. So instead, I typed my name and number, only I changed the last two digits.

And it was a good thing I did, because when Hunter returned from his bathroom trip, the first thing he did was check that I’d entered something. Luckily, he didn’t attempt to call me. Satisfied, he tossed his phone on the bed and nodded.

“Thank you. Now kiss me.”

I could see he wasn’t going to let me leave without this. So, sacrificing to make my plane, I pushed up on my toes and delivered a quick peck to his lips.

Mmm…. Nice and soft.

(And minty fresh.)

“Well…it was nice to meet you.” I turned to dart out the door, but Hunter grabbed my wrist yet again.

“I said kiss me.”

“I did!”

“Kiss me the way you kissed me last night.”

Before I could even attempt to let that sink in, Hunter yanked me against him. One of his large hands cupped the back of my neck, and he squeezed firmly to direct my head where he wanted it. Then, his lips crashed down on mine.

The shock of feeling his mouth against mine quickly dissipated as he licked my lips, encouraging me to open for him. His tongue dipped inside, and he groaned as he tilted my head and deepened the kiss. The vibration of the sound traveled between us and sent a hum through my body. Soft and gentle went out the window after that. He grabbed a fistful of my ass, and I lifted my body up onto his, wrapping my legs around his waist. As he backed us to the wall, a sense of familiarity overcame me. I couldn’t remember the specifics of our previous kiss, but I now knew deep inside what it had felt like.

My cell dropped from my hand so my fingers could tangle in his hair. Yanking on the soft strands, I couldn’t get enough. A moan from deep inside my chest moved through our connected mouths. Hunter pushed harder, his thick erection pressing into the center of my open legs. He rocked as he kissed me, causing a friction through two layers of clothing that was leading me to a place I didn’t think it was possible to go fully dressed.

It felt like he wanted to swallow me whole, and in that moment, I would have let him. My breasts were crushed to his chest, and a heartbeat raged out of control—only I wasn’t sure if it was my own or his. Jesus, where does a man learn to kiss like this?

I was breathless and stunned when our kiss broke. Hunter sucked on my bottom lip, tugging it before releasing my mouth.

His voice was strained. “Change your flight. We’re not done here.”

I swallowed, trying to gain some composure. “I can’t.” My voice was barely a whisper. It was all I could muster.

We met at a wedding—him sitting on the groom’s side, me sitting on the bride’s. Stealing glances at each other throughout the night, there was no denying an intense, mutual attraction.

I caught the bouquet; he caught the garter. Hunter held me tightly while we danced and suggested we explore the chemistry sparking between us. His blunt, dirty mouth should’ve turned me off. But for some crazy reason, it had the opposite effect on me.

We ended up back in my hotel room. The next morning, I headed home to New York leaving him behind in California with the wrong number.

I thought about him often, but after my last relationship, I’d sworn off of charming, cocky, gorgeous-as-sin men. A year later, Hunter and I met again at the birth of our friends’ baby. Our attraction hadn’t dulled one bit. After a whirlwind trip, he demanded a real phone number this time. So I left him with my mother’s—she could scare away any man with her talks of babies and marriage—and flew back home.

I’d thought it was funny, until the following week when he rang the bell at Mom’s house for Sunday night dinner. The crazy, gorgeous man had won over my mother and taken an eight-week assignment in my city. He proposed we spend that time screwing each other out of our systems.

Eight weeks of mind-blowing sex with no strings attached? What did I have to lose?

Vi Keeland is a #1 New York Times and #1 Wall Street Journal Bestselling author. With millions of books sold, her titles have appeared in over eighty Bestseller lists and are currently translated in nineteen languages. She lives in New York with her husband and their three children where she is living out her own happily ever after with the boy she met at age six.

“Another amazing series! Scarlett Cole just writes some AMAZING characters, that are raw, real but still fictional enough that they could be your next book boyfriend or real enough that it’s someone you know…I can’t wait for more of the Preload boys.” —TBR Book Blog

NIKAN REBUILT releases next week and we can’t wait for you to read this super-sexy rockstar romance! Pre-order today so you don’t miss this second-chance romance. Plus enter to win a Kindle Fire from Scarlett Cole!

From the queen of heart-pounding, sexy, emotional romance Scarlett Cole comes Nikan Rebuilt, the next novel in the Preloadseries.

Does the past ever really stay in the past?

Nikan can never be complete. He’s got a rock group made up of the family he built for himself, more money than he knows what to do with, and a stream of groupies falling over themselves to date him. But none of them are her. The one regret that still plagues him, still taunts him with what he could have had.

Jenny is a survivor. Now running a group home after overcoming life in a cult lead by her manipulative father and watching her mother drink the poison he fed his followers, she fights to keep the light in the eyes of every boy who walks through her doors. Far from simple young love, Nik taught her to trust, showed her how good life could be. Before he formed the band. Before he became a famous rockstar. Before he destroyed it all.

A chance meeting after years of no contact shows the connection still blazes between them. But will they have their second chance at love? Or will the weight of their past crush their future together?

“Why didn’t you tell anybody where you were?” It was the question that had always burned him. He knew that she didn’t have anybody else in the world who cared that she was okay as much as he did.

Jenny stopped suddenly and turned to face him. “Because I knew you would come and find me, and back then I knew I wasn’t strong enough to keep you away.”

Nik’s heart stopped in his throat. The pain in her voice cut him as deeply as any of his stab wounds had. Unable to help himself, he placed the palm of his hand on her cheek. Her face so looked so soft, so vulnerable and open. As much as he wanted to kiss her lips, he buried the urge. “I’m sorry, Jenny. I can repeat that a thousand ways, and I can show you a thousand times over just how sorry I am. I just . . .” Just what? Threw it all out of the window in a reckless fit of hedonism?

Self-destruction.

He shut the voice off.

SELF-SABOTAGE.

his time it was even louder.

Jenny pulled away. “It’s probably best we leave all that alone. No point picking at a healed scab.”

“I don’t want to pick at a scab or have you hate me,” he said, sadly. “Or worse, I don’t want you to disappear on me again. I just want to get to know you, Jenny.”

“For what purpose, Nik?” Her eyes filled with tears, and he could feel the pain she was in. It mirrored his own. The pain that drove him to keep holding his makeshift family together so that life had some kind of meaning.

All out of words, he did the only thing he’d ever relied on for comfort. He pulled her into his arms and pressed his lips to hers, lips he’d used to watch as she sung, lips he could visualize around his cock as she’d given him her first-ever blow job, lips that he’d missed. They were soft and sweet, just like Jenny. Her fingers slid into his hair, her nails trailing along his scalp in a way that never failed to make him shiver. She remembered this. Their bodies remembered the way they were together. So did his dick, which was pressed up against her.

He knew it was over the moment her hands slid their way to his chest, and his heart broke all over again as she pushed him away.

“See, this is why I can’t be around you, Nik,” she cried. “It’s impossible to resist you. And we don’t belong together anymore.”

Nik shook his head. “Don’t do this, Jenny. We deserve a second chance to see what we’ve got. We are perfect together.”

“Were, Nik. We were perfect together. Don’t you see? It’s all past tense.” Jenny turned and hurried down the street.

“Jenny. Wait.” He jogged to catch up with her. “There was nothing past tense about that kiss, or the way you turn me on as much as you always did. There is nothing past tense about the way the sun catches your hair and turns it the color of a cornfield in fall. And I know you hate star references but there is nothing past tense about the way your fucking eyes light up your face like the Big Dipper, lights up the night-fucking-sky” he said. “I don’t want what we were to be the sum total of everything we ever add up to.”

The tattoo across my right hip says it all really. A Life Less Ordinary. Inked by the amazingly talented Luke Wessman at the Wooster Street Social Club (a.k.a. New York Ink). Why is it important? Well, it sums up my view on life. That we should all aspire to live a life that is less boring, less predictable. Be bold, and do something amazing. I’ve made some crazy choices. I’ve been a car maker, a consultant, and even a senior executive at a large retailer running strategy. Born in England, spent time in the U.S. and Japan, before ending up in Canada were I met my own, personal hero – all six and a half feet of him. Both of us are scorpios! Yeah, I know! Should have checked the astrological signs earlier, but somehow it works for us. We have two amazing kids, who I either could never part with or could easily be convinced to sell on e-bay.

I’ve wanted to be a writer for a really long time. Check through my office cupboards or my computer and you’ll find half written stories and character descriptions everywhere. Now I’m getting the chance to follow that dream.

A single mom and tortured musician find common ground in Scarlett Cole’s REDEEMED, the second standalone romance about the band PRELOAD. Elliott “Pyro” Dawson has a past he’s fought like hell to overcome and Kendalee Walker is at her wits end and homeless. Will Kendale provide the family Elliott has never had or will dangerous habits prove to strong? Readers will savor this dark, sexy rockstar romance.

ELLIOTT REDEEMED releases next week and we can’t wait for you to read this sexy Rockstar romance! Pre-order today to not miss this dark and sexy read. Plus enter to win a Preload Bundle!

SYNOPSIS

A single mom and tortured musician find common ground in Scarlett Cole’s Elliott Redeemed, the second standalone romance about the band Preload.

Elliott “Pyro” Dawson burns up the lead guitar like a legend. But the nickname Pyro isn’t just a clever play on words. It’s much darker. A past he’s fought like hell to overcome.

Grocery store cashier Kendalee Walker is at her wits end and homeless. She’s watched her fourteen-year-old son, Daniel, go so far off the rails, he can no longer see the tracks.

When the two are brought together, attraction flares, but can Elliott find the family he never had with the sexy woman and her son, or will he fall back on dangerous habits?

“I was sitting down here,” he said roughly, “because knowing you were in that bathtub only a floor away was fucking killing me.”

She hadn’t heard him come home, but he’d obviously been there a while, as he wore a pair of shorts that rode low on his hips and nothing else. Maybe it was the alcohol making her bolder, but she wanted to run her fingers down the lines of muscle that led down into his shorts. “Elliott,” she whispered, taking a step toward him. She placed her hand over his heart, a heart she knew was capable of good things. His skin was warm, his muscles solid, and she took comfort from the fact he was here with her and that she wasn’t alone. Tentatively, she stroked her hand down his chest, but Elliott placed his hand over hers and studied her intently. His eyes, heavy lidded, telling her that he wanted her as much as she did him.

What was he waiting for? It had all made sense to stand her ground, to not get involved. But now, feeling as she did in her sexy new nightgown after years of feeling unwanted, none of it was relevant. She stepped up onto her toes and pressed her lips to his.

Elliott groaned against her and ran his tongue along the seam of her lips, and she opened for him immediately. He nudged the robe off her shoulders, and it slithered to the floor. Softly, he nuzzled his way along her jaw, and kissed her as he had the previous evening along the side of her neck, leaving her knees weak.

Kendalee slipped her fingers into his hair, holding him close. Her heart beat so furiously that she was certain Elliott could hear it. Finally. She’d get to experience what it was to let go and make love with someone who wanted her as she was.

He gripped the silk of her nightdress, pulling it tight around her hips, then let go and slid his hands down her thighs until he reached the hem of the gown. Rough fingertips danced along her skin. In two steps, he backed her up against the counter, then lifted her as if she weighed nothing, making her gasp as the cool marble met her heated skin.

The sensations were impossible to absorb. From the way his stubble tickled her cheek as he kissed her again to the way his calloused hands gripped her knees and pressed them open. As the nightdress rose up her thighs, Elliott stared at the space between them. She was naked beneath the slip of silk, and for a moment, she panicked, trying to recall just how many weeks ago it had been since she’d had the privacy to shave her bikini line.

“Fuck.” Elliott groaned as his hands slid higher, his thumbs almost touching her most intimate places. “We can’t,” he then said and stepped away.

ABOUT SCARLETT COLE

The tattoo across my right hip says it all really. A Life Less Ordinary. Inked by the amazingly talented Luke Wessman at the Wooster Street Social Club (a.k.a. New York Ink). Why is it important? Well, it sums up my view on life. That we should all aspire to live a life that is less boring, less predictable. Be bold, and do something amazing. I’ve made some crazy choices. I’ve been a car maker, a consultant, and even a senior executive at a large retailer running strategy. Born in England, spent time in the U.S. and Japan, before ending up in Canada were I met my own, personal hero – all six and a half feet of him. Both of us are scorpios! Yeah, I know! Should have checked the astrological signs earlier, but somehow it works for us. We have two amazing kids, who I either could never part with or could easily be convinced to sell on e-bay.

I’ve wanted to be a writer for a really long time. Check through my office cupboards or my computer and you’ll find half written stories and character descriptions everywhere. Now I’m getting the chance to follow that dream.Website | Facebook | Instagram | Twitter

“Katee Robert has definitely picked up the romantic suspense genre and made it her bitch. I can’t wait to see what we get next. Given some of the books I see she’s been using for research, I know it’s going to be frightening and amazing at the same time.”—Goodreads Review

Pre-order THE HUNTING GROUNDS and add it to your TBR pile on Goodreads! Then keep reading to get an EXCLUSIVE sneak peek at THE HUNTING GROUNDS and to enter the giveaway for a $25 Amazon gift card!

Vic thought he was prepared. He wasn’t the type of man to spend too much effort worrying about what could possibly happen—it made more sense to deal with what did happen. He knew seeing Maggie again after all this time would be a shock, but they’d been partners for twelve months at best. There was no reason to think he couldn’t roll with this development the same way he rolled with every other.Then he arrived at Goat Haunt ranger station. He followed Wyatt out of the chopper, using a hand to shield his face from the wind the blades created. The ranger station was set against Upper Waterton Lake, and with the mountains in the background, it could have been a scene out of a painting.All of that paled in comparison to Maggie.She looked good. Better than good. During her time as his partner, she’d been too thin, running on too little sleep and too much coffee, and her health had suffered as a result. Obviously being a park ranger agreed with her. The unfortunate uniform did nothing to hide how her curves had filled out, her body honed from the many hours of hauling around a pack similar to the one he now carried. Her hair was longer, too, the dark locks pulled back into a braid that hit just past her shoulders.But she was still Maggie.Even in the bright sunlight, he could see the way her dark eyes flashed as her shock wore off. And her nose, the only feature of hers that could never be termed pretty, was the same—long and slightly crooked from where it’d been broken in the FBI academy.Maggie shook off her paralysis faster than he did. She frowned. “What are you doing here, Vic?”“Agent Sutherland’s here for the murder.” Wyatt stepped forward, breaking what remained of the spell cast between them.Rationally, Vic knew it had lasted seconds at most, but it felt like a small eternity. He struggled to put the past in the appropriate box to deal with when they weren’t on a case. When we aren’t on a case, I’ll leave . . . He shut the thought down. He had a duty to the victims, and letting himself get distracted by Maggie wasn’t going to find the unsub.Even if Maggie was a bright, shining star in the midst of darkness.He moved closer and slid off his pack. “Where’s the best place to talk?”For a second, it looked like Maggie would pepper him with more questions, but she finally nodded. “This way.”

For two FBI agents with a past, love becomes a matter of life and death in the new Hidden Sins novel from New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Katee Robert.

Maggie Gaines used to be an FBI agent—top of her class and one of the bright, up-and-coming stars—until she spectacularly fell apart during her first high-profile case. That was eight years ago. Now she’s a ranger at Glacier National Park, and she’s found some measure of peace. But when the body of a murdered woman is discovered, she must finally put the past behind her and work with the one man she thought she’d never see again.

For months, Vic Sutherland has been hunting a killer who’s been targeting unsuspecting hikers in national parks—and now the predator has come to Glacier. Vic knows the case will bring him face-to-face with his former partner, yet nothing can prepare him for seeing Maggie again after all these years, or for the memories of passion it stirs in both of them.

As the investigation brings them closer together—and closer to the killer—Maggie and Vic fear they have only each other to trust. But even that might not be enough to make it out of Glacier alive.

You know, I write these fuckin’ letters to you, but they’re fake. I ask about your friends and your school and whether you’re meeting people. It’s bullshit, Mel.

Here’s my reality.

Yesterday I stabbed someone before he could stab me. Puck and I sold some shit to a bunch of white supremacists and we turned around and sold the same damned thing to some Mexicans. We had pudding with our dinner for dessert.

Then I jacked off three times thinking about you. Those are the highlights. Like a fairy tale, right? Remembering you keeps me going, which makes no fucking sense at all. I hardly touched you. I still think about what you smelled like when you sat next to me on the couch, though. You were just this little thing and you shivered under my arm. I know you were scared of the movie and I could’ve picked something else, but I wanted the excuse to hold you.

That’s when I started thinking seriously about us fucking.

I had this vision of shoving you into the cushions face- first, then ripping down your jeans and pushing so deep you’d feel it in the back of your throat. That’s the kind of guy I am, Mel, and that’s why you should stay the fuck away from me.

You give me the chance, I’ll pin you down and keep pumping no matter how hard you try to get away. I dream about it every night, I jerk off to it, and today I gave serious thought to killing a man because he has the same fantasies about you as me. That first night, I promised London I wouldn’t touch you, but my cock had already been hard for hours. Good thing she showed up when she did—saved your ass. How’s that for luck?

When I took you to dinner, I was going to be good. Tried to be good. I know you didn’t understand why I asked you out or what it meant. They needed you out of the way, Mel. That was my job—to keep you busy. And I promised London I wouldn’t pull shit on you but she’d been lying to us all along and I kept wondering if that meant my promise didn’t count anymore.

Pretty damned sure it hasn’t counted for a while now.

You were talking and smiling and blushing. My dick was so stiff it nearly snapped in half when I tried to stand up. Took everything I had not to throw you on my bike and ride off with you . . . I want to tie you up and come in your ass and shove my cock down your throat until you choke. I want your hair in little-girl pigtails so I can hold on tight while I fuck your face. I want you to cry and scream and give me everything. I want to fucking OWN you. How’s that for reality, Mel? You still want my advice about boys?

I’m coming home soon. You should run away while you still can, Mel. I’ll make you dirty, so dirty you’ll never be clean again. I’ll make you pay me back the hard way. You think you’re all grown up, but you’re not. There’s so much I could teach you . . . do to you. Jesus, if you only knew, you’d never write to me again.

You should move to Alaska. Change your name. Good luck, though, because I’ll find you and take you and—

Fucking hell.

I dropped my pencil, wondering why I’d thought this was a good idea. I wasn’t going to send it, of course. I’d send her some friendly little note and tell her she should be dating and having fun. But some part of me thought writing my real thoughts out might fix my obsession. Instead my dick was like a rock. Again.

Reaper’s Fall is the newest standalone in the Reaper’s MC Series. Painter & Melanie’s story will be available on November 10th and is currently up for Pre-order!

The New York Times bestselling author of Reaper’s Stand is back in her “uber-alpha rough world of MCs”* as one woman’s future is rocked by the man whose hardcore past could destroy her…

He never meant to hurt her.

Levi “Painter” Brooks was nothing before he joined the Reapers motorcycle club. The day he patched in, they became his brothers and his life. All they asked in return was a strong arm and unconditional loyalty—a loyalty that’s tested when he’s caught and sentenced to prison for a crime committed on their behalf.

Melanie Tucker may have had a rough start, but along the way she’s learned to fight for her future. She’s escaped from hell and started a new life, yet every night she dreams of a biker whose touch she can’t forget. It all started out so innocently—just a series of letters to a lonely man in prison. Friendly. Harmless. Safe.

Now Painter Brooks is coming home… and Melanie’s about to learn that there’s no room for innocence in the Reapers MC.

You know how it’s really loud on a plane, that constant, distorted hum overhead while in flight? So that even when the person in say, 2A, is talking to their neighbor in 2B, they have to raise their voice some, or lean in, to be heard?

Imagine then, if you will, the volume at which Sawyer Beckett would need to bellow from the last row of first class to ask me, the actual occupant of 2A, something.

“This is all your fault, Kendrick! Even this punk kid I’m gonna kill agrees with me! Don’t ya’ Ryder? And don’t think I didn’t catch that his name sounds like RIDE HER!” Sawyer screams as though we’re the only ones on the plane. I don’t have to turn around to know Emmett’s crimson face is ducked in mortification and everyone seated around him is currently wondering, terrified of the answer, if security checked him thoroughly enough for stashed weapons… since he’s clearly displaying some insane tendencies.

And I’m unsure exactly what’s “my fault”- not that I’m gonna yell back and ask. Laney sticks out her hand to stop the stewardess, who unfortunately for her unknowing self, chooses now to walk by. “Are you people still possibly serving the very large lunatic back there alcohol?” Laney asks her pointedly.

The attendant offers a sheepish smile and shrugs. “No ma’am. The lady with him already slipped me a note forbidding it. But I believe he may be coercing the frightened young man seated in front of him to order and then stealing the drinks from him.”

“Okaaaaay,” Laney drawls out. “Just a thought.” She holds up a finger, then uses it to tap her chin in the most condescendingly ‘I have a polite suggestion’ manner possible. “How ’bout we stop serving him too then? Sound like a plan?”

If you really tried, you just might be able to catch a drip of the sarcasm in her question.

S.E. Hall, lover of all things anticipation and romance, is the author of The Evolve Series: Emerge, Embrace, Entangled, Entice, Baby Mama Drama and now, Endure! She’s also written the Finally Found novels Pretty Instinct and Pretty Remedy. Her co-written works include The Provocative Professions Collection: Stirred Up, Packaged and Handled, One Naughty Night and the standalone, full-length novel Matched with Angela Graham as well as Conspire, a romantic suspense with Erin Noelle.

S.E. resides in Arkansas with her husband of 19 years and 3 daughters of the home. When not writing or reading, she can be found “enthusiastically cheering” on one of her girls’ softball games.